


Wealthy Master and Servant

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 05:50:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19864546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A wealthy couple finds out that theyre expecting, after months of trying, but the wife shouldnt be troubled with the dirty work, and that means they need to find a wet nurse.





	Wealthy Master and Servant

A wealthy couple finds out that theyre expecting, after months of trying, but the wife shouldnt be troubled with the dirty work, and that means they need to find a wet nurse.

They tie one of their servants at the fence, bent over with a wooden sign around his neck announcing the good news and their need for someone who could milk the baby; theyre a prominent family, a good bloodline, and it wouldnt be proper for the husband to have an illegitimate child with the servant, let alone when they would be giving it away for him to focus on theirs.

The rest of the town is more than happy to help.

The couple doesnt want to waste any time, so they leave him there for a few days, sending another servant out with some food and water when the line for him slows down. sometimes it doesnt, leaving the other servant to feed or give him water while hes still being jostled against the fence by whoever is taking their turn, previous loads of come dripping down to where its already drying on his thighs from earlier men. 

The servant is too fucked out and exhausted to do anything more than let out a relieved sob when the husband comes out to announce that only the men still in line get to fuck him; theyre bringing the doctor by later to see if hes pregnant yet. 

The servant sobs again. he cant take it anymore, desperate for it to be over after hes been tied in the same place for so long, no break from the men relentlessly trying to get him pregnant, one after another until his whole body feels bruised and worn, but he doesnt want this. he doesnt know how hes supposed to get through it. 

They dont talk to him while hes being examined; the doctor only talks to the couple, about how theyll have milk ready when the baby comes even though he should still be pregnant, both of them close enough together to make it nice and easy. 

He doesnt know how they could say that. nice and easy. 

They put him back to work as soon as the doctor has left and hes been washed of the days worth of come dried to his skin, back on his usual duties.

He watches the wife.

He thinks he can get an idea of what to expect for himself, but when she gets new clothes fitted for her growing belly, hes told to just leave his shirt unbuttoned, let his pants open, youll have to sew your own buttons on if they pop; when she gets bed rest and warm compresses, he gets teased about his chest softening with milk, poked and groped by the other servants as he huffs and struggles through his daily chores. 

When the wife is told not to do anything strenuous, the husband comes to him instead, palming at his belly and biting at his neck as he fucks him over the edge of his desk, or has the servant in his lap in his office, sitting back to watch the servant strain and groan through riding him. 

The husband likes it best when he can feel kicks.

“Sir,” the servant gasps, fingers slipping over the desk as he tries to clench his hands against the feeling of his insides being churned up from all angles, the kicks and shifts paired with the husbands cock, “please slow down–”

He cuts off with a whimper as the husband fucks him harder instead, squeezing at the servants belly where he can feel the shifting pick up with the rougher treatment, another cry when the husband muffles a groan in a bite to the servants neck.

He always does like it best when he can feel kicks. 

The servant is told to be ready when the wife goes into labor, hes frozen in the hallway outside, barely feeling the heaviness in him or the tightness of his overfilled chest through the wifes shouting and the midwifes instructions. 

He feels sick. 

Theres no way he can imagine himself getting through that, but he doesnt have too much longer to try before the door opens; hes pulled inside, with hurried instructions to open his shirt–the last couple buttons that still close over his chest–before the baby is given to him. 

He almost doesnt know what to do at first.

It hurts, the little mouth clamping down for the milk, but theres still the relief of the pressure letting up as the baby drinks. 

He doesnt sleep much. 

His usual duties have been shifted around so every moment is devoted to the baby; he sleeps in the same room, woken up each time it cries, each time the husband gets impatient for his wife to recover, groping at the servants wide, round belly while the baby finishes feeding before taking him again.

He still likes to feel the kicks.

When the servants water breaks, he isnt allowed off duty yet. the baby is still feeding when the contractions start, and hes in no position to interrupt it for his own comfort; the baby doesnt react when he cries, numbly holding it to his chest while he tries unsuccessfully to shift to a more comfortable position.

Finally, most of a day into the contractions, the doctor is called and hes relieved of his duty for the time being; he doesnt get the kind, understanding treatment from the midwife that the wife did, just the simple, objective instructions from the doctor while he pushes and sobs and screams only until a wad of fabric is shoved into his mouth to stop him from disturbing the wife or the baby. it takes hours for his own to come out, swaddled and taken to be given away before he can catch his breath. 

He has a duty, and its not to that one.

He does as he told; he feeds the couples baby, changes it, answers its cries waking him up at night until hes told to eventually wean it off of him, the milk finally drying up.

He thinks its over, finally, finally, until hes called into the living room to see another couple with the owners of the house.

“Im sure youve met before, at least in passing,” the wife says, waving between the servant and the other couple. “theyre looking for someone to help with their baby, and you did such a good job here.”

The servant can only take a deep breath and nod.

Its not long before hes starting it all over again.


End file.
